


They All Laughed At Me (for the last time)

by mttraspberrypie



Category: Carrie (1976), Carrie - Stephen King, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullied Peter Parker, Bullying, Flash Thompson Bullies Peter Parker, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Stephen King's Carrie References, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, basically a carrie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 03:58:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19243387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mttraspberrypie/pseuds/mttraspberrypie
Summary: Peter Parker's an outcast, sure. Yet when he gets a chance to finally, finally fit in, it's not like he'll turn it down.Little does he know it'll only end in tragedy.***Basically an Irondad Carrie AU for Homecoming





	They All Laughed At Me (for the last time)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is- as the summary says- an Irondad Carrie AU for Homecoming. Happy reading!- This does get pretty graphic violence wise, so be warned!

Excerpt from “Mutants: A Detailed History,” page 98, by Harry W. Westchester:

“... And really, the Peter Parker case is a curious one. When Queens received what they dubbed their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, they didn’t seem to realize that they were also allowing a teenage boy to shoulder the responsibilities of protecting them all, which would ultimately lead to the tragic loss of many young lives, by this very boy’s hand…”

***

It should have been just a regular day. And, up until after gym class, it is.

Peter Parker is in the shower- to be more specific, the locker room shower, which has some weird eggplant colored mold growing in the corner, and very bad water pressure.

Honestly, though, he doesn’t particularly care about that right now, What he cares about is not smelling like sweat, especially not around his crush, Liz Allan, who he is totally not floored by everytime she opens her mouth to say something, usually incredibly smart or sweet.

He also cares about the fact that his stomach feels like it’s doing backflips, but that’s less important.

Peter lets the water hit his face, which feels oddly soothing, considering the locker room is currently filled with the shouts and echoes of his classmates running around. Most of them are done showering, but since he’s Peter Parker, he’s forced to go last, unless he wants to get tripped in the halls a lot more than usual.

Finally, he steps out of the shower, wrapping a white towel around his waist. His best friend, Ned Leeds, is waiting for him next to their gym lockers, which are next to each other, conveniently enough.

“Dude, no offense, but you totally sucked ass at volleyball today.” Ned grins, in the middle of drying his own hair with a ratty Hulk-themed towel. 

Peter rolls his eyes, masking the sinking feeling in his stomach. “I know I did, Ned. But in my defense-”

“In your defense, you were totally staring Liz, who you need to man up and ask to Homecoming already!” Ned interrupts. “You’re Spider-Man, she can’t say no to you!”

Peter’s eyes widen as he frantically looks around the room, making sure no one heard Ned’s comment. When no one seems to be looking at them in surprise, Peter turns back to Ned, his voice a whisper.

“Yeah, Ned, that’s great, except she doesn’t know I’m Spider-Man. And it has to stay that way, so maybe try not to, I don’t know, scream it in the locker room!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ned sheepishly apologizes. “But hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“I just got a new Lego set, and guess who it’s themed after?”

Peter’s mouth hangs open. “Dude, no way!”

Ned grins. “Yes way! It’s you- I mean, uh, Spider-Man- fighting some bank robbers. It’s actually limited edition right now, but-”

Peter’s feeling of dorky happiness at the thought that he has a very own Lego set themed after him is quickly interrupted by his stomach. Something is wrong, it feels as if something is rising, and Peter clutches his stomach, but it’s too late, too late, too-

“Everyone, look! Penis Parker just threw up!”

Flash’s shout bounces off the locker room walls, and simultaneously, everyone turns to look at him.

It’s not a pretty sight.

Peter is doubled over, still puking, tears streaming down his face, towel slipping. The vomit splashes on the tile floor, dark green in color, and it smells, oh god, it smells.

There’s a moment of silence before Flash starts to laugh.

“Yo, Penis! Need someone to clean that up for you?” 

Flash throws something at Peter, and he doesn’t quite process what it is, seeing as he’s literally just stopped vomiting- it’s a towel. 

A chant starts, although Peter can’t tell who started it. 

“Clean it up, clean it up!”

And now everyone is throwing things at him, save Ned, who’s staring at this whole scene in horror. Towels are being thrown, deodorant, dirty underwear. People even try to snatch his towel off his body.

Now there’s a new chant, amongst the original one.

“Penis Parker, Penis Parker!”

Peter lets a sob escape him, the tears flowing nonstop. He usually wouldn’t cry over something like this, except his stomach really, really hurts, and he’s being pelted by so many things and his towel keeps slipping, and god, this is so humiliating-

Just as Peter slips on the wet floor, just as the chants are getting louder, just as he’s hit in the face by a can of Axe spray- Flash’s, no doubt- the door to the locker room slams open, and a hush falls across the room.

All Peter knows is that the chanting and the throwing have finally stopped, and vaguely, vaguely, he hears someone trying to speak to him, notices there’s someone in front of him, talking.

Peter shakily lifts up his head, and is greeted with the sight of Tony-fricking-Stark, who looks very, very concerned, and very, very pissed off.

It takes Peter a moment to process two things.

One- Tony is asking him a question.

Two- He is in a pool of his own vomit, wearing nothing except a now puke-soaked towel he’s clutching like a lifeline, in front of his mentor, the one he’s been trying to impress for so long.

This only makes him cry harder.

Everyone else is gaping at them.

“Kid, kid. Listen to me. I need you to listen. Do you think you can stand up? Do you still feel bad?” Tony asks, taking off his sunglasses. His voice is stead, which makes Peter finally able to speak.

“M-Mr. Stark, I-”

“Save it, kiddo. Happy’s waiting outside the school. Do you think you can stand?” Tony asks again.

Peter nods slowly, and shakily stands up. Everyone watches as Tony Stark takes his hand, and together, they walk out of the room, leaving behind a very shellshocked group of teenagers.

 

***

 

Excerpt from “The Peter Parker Story: A Biography,” page 189, by John K. Flemming:

“It’s a bit hard for some to believe that Peter Parker would be unpopular amongst his peers. But, what most forget to take into account, is that he was an outcast amongst a school of already outcasts. When I asked a former classmate of his, Sasha Strewbeck, who’d transferred schools after her freshman year at Midtown what everyone thought of him, she responded,   
“I mean, there’s not really a lot to say. I knew him in middle school- I mean, I didn’t really know him know him- and he was already an outcast by then. We were all already pretty big nerds, seeing as we went to Midtown, but Peter was the kid who lost his parents and his uncle- and everybody knew it. He was the kid who still played with Legos, had only one friend.  
I think what really made everyone start to pick on him, though, was when people realized this loser- not that I think of him that way, I suppose- was doing better than all of them test-wise. Really, no one would have guessed he was Spider-Man! So, one thing leads to another, people get jealous and start spreading rumors that he’s socially inept, that he’s super poor, all that sort of thing. I’m just glad I didn’t go to the school during my sophomore year. A terrible tragedy, what happened, not only to all those kids, but to Peter during his whole life as well.”

 

***

 

“So, do you want to tell me what happened? Or should I just guess?” 

Peter and Tony are sat at the Tower’s breakfast bar, a mug of hot chocolate in Peter’s hands. He’d taken a shower, and was now wearing Tony’s old MIT sweatshirt and some sweats that Tony had found for him.

The ride to the Tower had been silent, with Tony rubbing circles on his back, Peter silently crying.

Peter still feels mortified at the thought of his mentor seeing him so weak, seeing him so pathetic. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it, Mr. Stark.” Peter mumbles, taking a sip of his drink. His stomach feels like it’s settled down, so he’s not too hesitant about drinking this.

Tony sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t push, but when it comes to your health- and how you’re being treated at school- I feel like I get a pass on having you tell me, kid.”

“I just- I just wasn’t feeling so good, Mr. Stark. My stomach felt weird all day. I just threw up, that’s all. Plus there’s a flu bug that’s been going around, so,” Peter says rather lamely. He knows it’s a stupid explanation, but it’s true. 

Tony raises an eyebrow, and Peter can see this conversation is far from done.

“First of all, Underoos, call me Tony. I think it’s safe to say we’re there, at least.”

When this doesn’t get a laugh, or any reaction, really, is when Tony truly begins to suspect Peter is more traumatized about this whole incident than he thought.

“Second, care to tell me why you were being pelted by things from your classmates? Or do I have to guess on that too?”

Peter just shakes his head. “It’s fine, Mr.Stark. Really.” His voice is a bit more whiny now, and it’s plain to see he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“Fine,” Tony relents, “I’m not a fan of seeing you hurt, especially by those asshole classmates of yours, but if you really don’t want to talk about it that badly, I won’t make you. But you need to tell someone when you’re feeling bad. And don’t think I won’t be getting those kids in trouble, either, because I will.”

Peter opens his mouth in protest, but Tony cuts him off before he can even start.

“Ah ah ah, not done yet. There’s another thing.”

Tony clears his throat, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Emotions aren’t his strong suit, at least when it comes to expressing them, but it should be said. 

“When I was your age, I had my fair share of bullies, too. Guess everyone couldn’t handle the fact that I was some snarky genius who was years behind them yet still in their grade. And I get it. It’s not a fun thing to go through. And for whatever reason you’re holding back on them, Peter, you need to know that you don’t deserve that sort of treatment. No one does, especially not you.”

“I… I don’t know why they don’t like me, Mr. Stark. Maybe it’s because I’m always ruining the curve on tests or because I’m just some- just some loser who still plays with Legos even though he’s fifteen, but I… I can’t fight back. I don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.” Peter admits, staring into his hot chocolate like it’s a crystal ball.

“You can still tell someone, Pete. You can still get help. You don’t have to go through this-”

“I do have to, though.” Peter finally meets Tony’s gaze, and his smile is so sad Tony feels his heart break. “I have to, because I can take it. I heal quick. All the other kids- they don’t. If they were to get bullied and tripped and all that, they… they wouldn’t be able to take it. And I wouldn’t be able to just stand by and watch that all happen to someone else. So I don’t.”

Tony stares at Peter for a moment, and then decisively pulls him into a hug. Sure, it was only a month or two ago he’d told Peter they weren’t there yet, but he’d seen the kid covered in his own vomit, sobbing, which pretty much cancels out any reservedness they’d had, at least when it came to something as now minor as hugging. 

Peter tenses at first, but then relaxes, wrapping his arms around Tony.

“You really don’t deserve any of this.”

There’s a beat, and then Tony lets Peter go. Peter’s face is flushed, and Tony feels a bit awkward himself, until Peter asks if he’s going to tell Aunt May.

“No, as long as you don’t tell her that I gave you hot chocolate after you threw up.” Tony smirks, and that gets a laugh.

“I don’t think she’d care too much, Mr. Stark, s’long as I don’t go on patrol today.” Suddenly, his faces scrunches up into an expression of pure confusion. “Wait, why were you even at my school?”

“Karen sent me an alert that you’d, quote, ‘Torn a hole in your suit trying to rescue a deranged cat from a tree, which in turn tore another hole in your suit.’ I came to your school so we could fix the suit, together, preferably, since you apparently can’t sit still without getting into fights with strays.” Tony crosses his arms, and Peter sheepishly looks away.

“Uh, yeah. It wasn’t a stray, though. It was a little girl’s.” Peter gives him an embarrassed smile, which suddenly fades. “Sorry, by the way. About my suit. And about you having to, uh, pick me up from school when I was like… that. And about right now when you’re probably super busy and I’m just eating up your time. Actually, I should, uh, probably go?” Peter stands up to leave.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Seriously, kid, you apologize a mile a minute. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do, and I’m sure Pepper won’t bite my head off too bad. Now, you want to fix your suit or what? Unless you want to be out of commission because of a cat.” 

Peter’s face lights up. “Really? We can fix the suit? Together? Now?”

“Isn’t that what I came to your school for? By the way, I don’t know what your school has a football field for, seeing as it’s literally a school for nerds, but to each their own.”

Peter grins. “Aren’t you a nerd too, Mr. Stark?”

Tony ruffles Peter’s hair. “Yeah, I am. But I’m also a fully grown nerd who just happens to be a billionaire and very, very sexy-”

“Mr. Stark! Ew!”

“-Point being, I get a pass, and you need to get your butt to the lab with your suit so we can fix it. FRI, show him the way.” Tony orders, as Peter grabs his bookbag, which presumably has his torn suit in it.

“Sure thing, boss.” FRIDAY responds, yet Peter is still standing in front of him, looking confused.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute. I’m gonna make myself a cup of coffee, and no, you can’t have any, because Spiderbabies and caffeine most definitely do not mix well.” As if to prove his point, Tony gets up and grabs himself a mug as Peter says something about not being a baby and leaves, per FRIDAY’s guidance to the lab.

Really, though, Tony just needs a moment. Alone. A moment to process what he’d seen in the locker room.

When Tony had gone to the office of the school- the secretary had looked like she’d been about to have a heart attack- he’d gotten word that Peter was in gym class. And, knowing how the kid would react to seeing him in the flesh, at his school, Tony had decided to just surprise him and show up to his gym class, rather than have Peter called to the office to be picked up. 

Plus, who wouldn’t want all their classmates to see Tony Stark picking them up at school?

Yet, nothing could have fully prepared him for what had been going down in the locker room. When he’d entered the gym, he heard shouts, and cries- they were unmistakably Peter’s, Tony could recognize them from a mile away- he’d burst into the locker room, only to find Peter in his own vomit, clutching a towel, sobbing while his peers threw things at him and called him names.

Tony hates that he can relate, hated that someone as good and young as Peter has to go through torment like what he’d seen in the locker room, let alone daily.

He also feels confused. It was, and still is, weird feeling this protective over anyone, let alone a kid. Then again, didn’t Peter have a way of worming himself into people's hearts? The kid was just so bright, so optimistic, and at times, annoyingly determined to do the right thing- which wasn’t a bad quality to have, but not the best for a fifteen year old kid with superpowers and a tendency to sacrifice himself.

Tony sighs for what feels like the millionth time, and decides he might as well make a cup of coffee. Peter’s certainly energetic, and seeing as they’ll be working in the lab together, Tony will need some extra energy for himself.

Not that he minds- and not that he’d tell anyone that, either.

One thing was for sure, though. Those kids that made fun of him were going to regret crossing Peter Parker when Tony Stark was done with them,.

 

***

Excerpt from “The Life of Spider-Man,” page 32, by Maria Ramirez:

“The relationship between Peter Parker and Tony Stark isn’t as black and white as people make it out to be. Most believe Tony Stark was just a mentor to Peter, and nothing else. But inside sources will show that they were much closer- more father-son than mentor-mentee. Not to mention the fact that it was undeniably Tony Stark who comforted and removed Peter from the locker room during the particular incident where his peers ridiculed him over having vomited on the floor. I recently interviewed Doug Dawson, a classmate who was present during the incident, and had also not attended the prom, due to a fever. When asked about the locker room incident, he said,   
“I don’t know, man. I’m not gonna say I didn’t throw shit at Peter- I did, I threw my Converse at him- but it was sort of hard NOT to, you know? I mean, he was Penis Parker. Everyone hated him. And he’d literally just thrown up in front of everyone, and it didn’t help that his towel kept slipping, and that he was crying and shit. Everyone threw stuff, it wasn’t just me. Flash started it, though. He was the one who got out attention, and he was the one who first threw something, and he was the one who started the chants.   
When Tony Stark came in, though, we all stopped. I mean, he’s one of the richest guys in the world. Parker always said he had an internship with him, but no one BELIEVED him. Just like no one believed he was Spider-Man. And Tony actually seemed to care about him, like he was his dad and shit. He literally took his hand and left with him. Like a pseudo-dad or something, I don’t know.   
I don’t even want to talk about this anymore. It makes me sick. He was Spider-Man. God, and we all kind of started it, huh?”

 

***

 

When Peter arrives at home, May Parker is sitting in the living room, waiting for him. She’s holding two cups of something in her hands, and Peter wonders how many times he’ll have a free drink waiting for him today.

“Hey, May. I’m, uh, home.” Peter says, and sets his bag down next to the door. May turns to look at him, worry etched into her eyes.

Peter hates that he’s the cause of it.

“The school called me. They said you weren’t feeling well, that you threw up in gym class.” May walks over to him, leaving the mugs on the coffee table, and cups his face in her hands. She tilts his head side to side, as if looking for something, and Peter can’t help but feel like a baby.

“Yeah. I did. I’m totally fine now, though. Really, I am.” Peter can’t help but wonder, again, how many times he’ll have to reassure an adult today that he’s fine.

“Then why did Tony Stark have to pick you up, hm?” May lets go of his face, crossing her arms. Uh oh. Peter knows that stance. It’s the, “If-There’s-Something-You’re-Not-Telling-Me-Now’s-Your-Chance-To” stance.

And there are so many things Peter isn’t telling her. She doesn’t seem to know that he was harassed in gym, thank god, she doesn’t know why Tony had really come to pick him up, but she also seems to know more than she’s letting on.

Peter shrinks.

“Oh, that! I, um, called Tony. I knew you were working and I didn’t want to bother you so… yeah. He was fine with it, though! He took care of me, really.” Peter assures, with one too many head nods and all the deliverance of a substitute teacher on their first day.

May seems to believe this, or at least is willing to pretend she does, for now. “He better have. I don’t want to hear that my baby is throwing up in Stark Towers because the great Tony Stark doesn’t know how to take care of his sick intern.” May wraps her arms around Peter and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“May, I’m not a baby!” Peter laughs, trying to pull away.

“Ooh, you’re very right. You’re not a baby. You’re my baby.” May grins and practically drags him to the couch. She hands him a Star Wars themed mug- which is totally awesome and limited edition- filled to the brim with some sort of tea.

“Drink up,” she instructs, and Peter does so, knowing not to question May when she’s in full nurse mode.

“This is really good. Thanks.” Peter pauses to look up at May, who just smiles at him. He feels bad, he really does. May’s as nice a guardian as they come, but it can’t be easy having to take care of him without Ben, not to mention a not-so steady source of income.

The least he can do is thank her.

“After you finish that, I want you going straight to bed, okay? No staying up late.” May says sternly, but she runs a hand through his hair, so she probably isn’t that mad. 

“I will.” Peter finishes the last few dregs of tea and gets up to wash the mug. May stops him.

“I can wash it, Peter. I want you to get some rest. You work too hard, the least I can do is wash your mug for you.” May sighs, rubbing her nephew’s arm.

“So do you.” Peter counters, to which May just chuckles.

“What did I do to deserve such a sweet boy?” she says, and Peter wants to tell her she deserves more, but he can’t find words to describe just how much more deserves, because how can he? May deserves the moon and the stars.

Oh, wait, maybe he should just say that.

Before he can, though, May points her index finger towards their little hallway. “Go to bed, and promise me you’re going to try and get some rest.”

“I promise, May, I promise.” Peter fake-groans, and May laughs.

It’s too bad he knows he’ll break it.

 

***

Excerpt from “Spider-Man: Savior or Silencer?” page 55, by Wanda Sikes:

“...and when everything that came out came out, it was honestly hard to believe that all that destruction, mixed with those many months- almost a year- of keeping Queens safe was from Peter Benjamin Parker. He was a fifteen year old kid, and he was Spider-Man. Honestly, when I heard it, I was shocked. Everyone was, and could you blame us? No one would have guessed that it was a fifteen year old fighting bank robbers and saving cats from trees behind that mask, and certainly no one could have imagined that without the mask, Peter Parker would have caused the tragedy he did at Midtown’s Homecoming that year…”

 

***

Only minutes after his conversation- more like interrogation- with May, Peter is in his room, suiting up. His door is closed, and that will have to be enough for now- a locked door is way too suspicious.

Peter wishes the circumstances could be better. He wishes he could tell May about his being Spider-Man, but ever since Ben… it seems more and more like a cruel thing to do. If May knew he was out there, risking his life every single night, if May knew that he’d fought against the rogue Avengers with Iron Man, that his internship was a lie, that he was the one who’d saved his classmates in D.C…

It would be too much.

He already feels bad enough as it is, with May having to take on extra shifts just to make ends meet. She already stresses herself out enough as it is.

Peter puts on his mask and climbs out the window, onto the roof. Now he isn’t Peter Parker. Now he isn’t the kid who is bullied daily, the kid who made a fool of himself in gym class, in front of his mentor, the kid who for some reason everyone decided to hate, the kid who lost his parents and his uncle and lives in a tiny, cramped apartment and can’t even afford new shoes.

Now he is Spider-Man, Queens’ local hero whom everyone loves, the guy who saves people daily.

“Hello, Peter. It’s good to see you again.” Karen greets, her voice chipper, if an AI can be that.

Peter smiles. “Hey, Karen! You too. Um… is there anything going on right now? Crime-wise, I mean. Although I guess it doesn’t necessarily have to be crime? It could be, like a civilian in distress. Anyone who needs help.”

Smooth.

“There seems to be a man trying to kidnap a young girl about five miles away from here. Would you like me to guide you there?” Karen asks, ever helpful.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Peter nods, and now Karen is giving him the directions to where the kidnapping is taking place.

Peter fires up his web-shooters and starts swinging through the air as fast as he can. It always feels so freeing, wearing the mask, swinging through the air. It’s as if all his problems have been left on the ground, so far away from him.

There’s no time to dwell on that, though. He needs to save this little girl.

It’s evident what’s happening once he arrives at the scene, perched on a building.

Some sketchy looking man dressed in all black is trying to discreetly shove a crying little girl into the back of a white van. Is there really anything else that needs to be said?

“Hey, buddy! Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something totally illegal and messed up? Didn’t realize.” Peter quips as he jumps into view.

The man looks startled for a second, before he glares at him.

“Nothing’s happening here. She’s my daughter.” 

“Really, is she? Because you don’t usually see fathers shoving their crying daughters into the back of vans, y’know?” Peter takes a step closer towards him. “Listen now. I think it’d be better for you if you just let go of her, and-”

“This isn’t your business.” The man seems to think that Peter will leave at this, and turns back to the little girl, who’s trembling. “Now just get in there before-”

“Before this?” Peter asks, and slams his fist into the man’s face. The man staggers backwards, nose now gushing blood. He looks to his blood covered hand, then at Peter, and throws a punch, which Peter dodges, thanks to his spidey-sense.

“You know-” Peter dodges a kick, “-they always teach you to never get into vans with strangers, but do they ever teach the strangers not to force people into vans? It’s kind of a double standard.” And with that, Peter kicks the guy in the chest, which sends him slamming into a wall. Peter doesn’t waste any time, and webs him to it.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Peter kneels down in front of the little girl, who looks both amazed and slightly traumatized.

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Spider-Man.” she nods, her voice quivering.

“Good. Do you know where your parents are?” Peter asks softly.

“T-They were at the park… that’s where he took me.” she says, gesturing to her right. That must be the direction of the park.

“Alright. We’re gonna get you back to them, okay? Just stick with me.” Peter takes hold of her hand, and guides her back to her parents. Her parents tearfully thank him, and Peter assures them that it’s no problem- and it really isn’t.

 

***

Graffiti found etched into a desk at Midtown Science and Technology High School:

“Roses are red,  
The girl next   
to me is a bitch,  
But it’s undeniable that  
Penis Parker eats shit.”

***

The next day, when Peter arrives at school, it seems like everyone knows about the locker room incident. Everyone seems to be staring at him, teachers included.

Peter ducks his head extra low as he walks the halls.

“What’s up Penis Parker?” Flash calls to him as Peter is putting in his locker combination. Ned is next to him, babbling about something, probably Star Wars. They both ignore Flash.

“Oh np, wait. I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna-” Flash fake-vomits, which gets a laugh out of a lot of people nearby.

Peter feels his face flush. 

“Just ignore them, dude.” Ned whispers to him, and Peter tries two as the two attempt to make their way down the hall to math class, but someone has stuck their foot out and Peter trips over it, before his spidey-sense can catch it, and his books go flying.

It seems everyone is laughing, and Ned bends over to help him, but Peter just shakes his head and mouths, “Go to class.”

There’s no use in dragging Ned into this, too.

Then the bell is ringing, and everyone is scurrying off to class, leaving Peter alone, with his things on the floor.

It’s always been him. Always him who gets tripped and hit, always him who gets kick-me signs on his back, always him who gets stupid nicknames and hit by spitballs, gets his lunch thrown out by bullies, gets rumours spread about.

And it has to stay that way.

Peter sighs, still laying on the floor. He can’t help it, though. He doesn’t get as angry about these things as he used to- it’s not like he’s ever acted on his anger, anyway- but yesterday was especially humiliating. Everyone saw, Mr. Stark saw.

And, a very small part of him that’s been growing bigger lately, can’t help but secretly hope that these bullies get what they deserve. Everyone who ever decided to whisper about him behind his back, or straight up to his face, everyone who thought it was funny to pass around a note saying, “If you think Penis Parker looks like a fifty year old homeless man with daddy issues, sign here,” everyone who signed that note, and whoever thought it was funny to post that note on one of the announcement boards in the cafeteria for everyone to see.

Peter isn’t bitter. He doesn’t consider himself to be an angry person, either, and yet, it felt as if there was only so much more he could take.

At least Mr. Stark gave him some good advice. It was cool that they got to work together in the lab for a bit, too.

And even though that couldn’t- wouldn't- stop people from putting gum in his hair or pushing his things off the desk, from putting whoopee cushions in his seat or sending out a mass text that he had AIDS and lice and whatever other disease- it was nice to know someone was in his corner.

Even if it seemed like there was no light at the end of the tunnel.

Aside from being Spider-Man, of course.

Peter sighs, picks up his things, and goes to class.

Hopefully his teacher won’t reprimand him for being late.

 

***

Unbeknownst to Peter, Tony Stark pulls up in front of the school at this exact moment. This time, he doesn’t have Happy drive him, so he steps out of the sleek black Audi without anyone to open the door for him.

As Tony walks to the front of the school, his mind is set on only one thing.

Giving those kids who’d bullied Peter hell.

Tony honestly doesn’t know where this protectiveness is coming from- almost paternal in nature, though he refuses to admit it- but it’s there to stay, it seems, and Tony can’t honestly stand the thought of those little assholes getting off scot-free while Peter was humiliated like that.

Besides, this is something Tony wishes someone had done for him. There was no way Howard would have done anything like this for him, so the least he can do to further break the cycle of shame is this.

Tony makes his way to the front office, the halls empty. Tony’s planned it this way, having gained access- the more delicate way of saying hacked- into the school’s files to see their bell schedule, and Peter’s schedule.

Right now, Peter should be in math, which is why it’s confusing when Tony sees him lying on the floor, accompanied by a ton of textbooks and papers, presumably his.

Quickly, Tony ducks behind a corner. While he’s still set on doing this, he knows Peter probably wouldn’t be too happy at him getting his tormentors in trouble- even if they deserve it.

Tony doesn’t need to think twice to know that some asshole probably tripped him. What’s confusing is that Peter isn’t getting up, he’s just on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

Finally, though, he does get up, picks up his things, and walks away, turning corner at the end of the hall.

It’s weird, but Tony decides not to judge. He’s done weirder, and Pepper can vouch for that- yelling at inanimate objects at twelve A.M when he bumps into them, threaten to put DUM-E in the oven, etc.

As for Peter? If Tony hacks into the school’s database once more and erases the tardy he’s earned from that little lie-down session, no one has to know.

 

***

 

Incident report filed by PRINCIPAL MORITA, dated back to PETER PARKER’S freshman year at Midtown:

Student(s): Peter Benjamin Parker

Year: Freshman

Date of Incident: 10/27

Description of the Incident: Unnamed students- Peter Parker refused to name whom- trapped Peter Parker in a locker for hours on end. Said to have started at 9:15 A.M, ended around 4:13 P.M, oast the school day’s end. Unnamed students supposedly took Peter Parker’s phone, keys, and wallet, which were found in a toilet in the men’s bathroom, covered in urine and feces. Peter Parker also appeared to have suffered an anxiety attack, and minor cramping in the legs. 

Action Taken: May Parker, Peter Parker’s legal guardian, was called to pick Peter Parker up. 

Notes: This is the fifth incident report filed for this student this year. This is also the fifth time said student refuses to name any names. Per my recommendation, any following incidents after this SHOULD NOT BE FILED FOR AN INCIDENT REPORT, NOR MADE BIGGER THAN IT CURRENTLY IS. 

Signed: J. Morita

 

***

Tony sits in the principal’s office, as a gaping principal Morita stares at him. Tony feels as if he’s back in high school, in trouble all over again, despite the fact that most of the trouble he got into usually wasn’t his fault.

He also feels a bit like a shark in an aquarium, with this man so openly gawking at him.

Finally, Morita extends his hand, though not without some shakiness.

“Um, hello. Principal Morita, as I’m called around here. It’s a pleasure to meet you, um-”

“Tony Stark, though I’m sure you already know that,” Tony shakes the man’s hand- which is sweaty, ew- although his tone is icy. He has a bit of a bone to pick with this man, since it seems like Peter’s been bullied since he’s started at this school, and what has this man done about it?

Nothing.

“So, um- sorry, I’m just a bit nervous. It’s not everyday that billionaires come to our school.” Morita chuckles, trying to seem… relatable? Funny?

Tony’s not impressed.

“I can see that.” Tony simply says, leaning back in his chair. 

Tony isn’t going to make this man feel better about his nerves, not if he’s openly ignoring Peter’s troubles, as Tony suspects.

Morita looks a bit embarrassed at this, and coughs. “Yes. Um, anyhow, what brings you here? Is it a possible donation to the school? We-”

Tony actually snorts at that. While he’s all for giving donations to Peter’s school, it’s as if this guy can’t read a room. Tony isn’t exactly giving off donation-giving vibes, and he knows it.

“No, actually. I’m here about an incident concerning one of your students- Peter Parker, he’s a sophomore.”

Morita opens his mouth to speak, but Tony doesn’t give him the chance to. All business and clean-cut- Pepper would be proud- , Tony keeps talking. “It actually occured yesterday, in the gym’s locker room, I believe. Peter got sick, and was harassed verbally and physically by his fellow classmates.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard of that particular incident.” Morita nods.

“And what action is being taken against the students who harassed him?” Tony asks.

Morita looks a bit surprised at this- when is this guy not- and coughs again.

“You’re coughing a lot. Have a cold? Sore throat?” Tony inquires, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Morita’s face turns as red as the apple on his desk. “Um, no, I don’t. It’s just that we don’t really… take action when these sort of things happen to this particular student-”

“Peter,” Tony interjects, his voice now with an edge to it, “His name is Peter. Now, are you really telling me that when you hear this student is being harrassed- and since you’re saying that these sort of things happen to him, I’m gonna assume he’s been harassed more than once- that you don't take any sort of action against the students who do so? I find it hard to believe, frankly, that you, the principal of this school, aren’t doing anything when you hear one of your students is being bullied, unless I’m in the wrong room, in which case-”

Tony stands up, and is about to leave when Morita says, “No, wait- please, give me a chance to explain.”

Tony stays, but doesn’t resume sitting down.

Yeah, he’s pissed.

There’s a silence.

“Well? I don’t have all day, and I’m sure you don’t either, since you’re too busy not doing your job.”

“Yes. I, uh- you have to understand, Peter isn’t the most popular student. Very bright, but-”

Tony has to resist the urge to rain all sorts of lawsuits upon this whole damn school. “So you’re telling me that popularity is suddenly a factor in when bullying should be taken seriously or not?”

Morita holds his hands out in front of him, like an opera singer. “No, not at all! What I meant to say is that- really, I- Peter’s very bright-”

“Are you going to keep stammering, or should I just sue you for all you’re worth now?” Tony says icily, and that finally seems to get this sorry excuse for a principal on track again.

“Peter always refuses to name names whenever something happens to him. I’ve requested that the staff members stop filing incident reports, because there’s honestly no point in doing so if we don’t have names. It’s not like we can just punish no one.”

“So you’re telling me that you can’t- oh, I don’t know, check security footage, ask students who were witnesses to the incidents, maybe try a little harder to actually do something?” Tony takes off his sunglasses to glare at Morita, who seems to be shrinking into his big leather chair. “Really, this whole excuses game isn’t cute, and certainly not cutting it.”

Another silence.

Tony breaks it by snapping his fingers, which visibly startles Morita.

“Right. So, I want the names of everyone who’s in gym with Peter- he has it for fifth period- and I want them expelled.” Tony says, businesslike again. He’s not going to beat around the bush, or waste anymore time with this grade-A dumbass.

“Expulsion? You can’t do that to all of those kids, they-”

“They laughed at a kid covered in his own vomit, threw things at him, and tried to grab at his towel, which was the only thing he was wearing. I think expulsion is being pretty nice, considering what I could do to their records.” Tony snaps.

“But… you don’t even know who was involved for sure, and we don’t have security cameras in the locker rooms. The best I can do is give the whole class Saturday detention for, at the most, three weeks.” 

Tony pauses. “Fine. But I want to know who started it. And I want them to get the worst of it- since you can’t seem to expel a student for harassment, for some reason. I’m sure you can tell me who that is.”

Five minutes later, Tony walks out with a smirk, and a list of names, one name standing out in particular.

Eugene Thompson, otherwise known as Flash.

 

***

Comments found written in the stalls of Midtown’s male bathroom:

“Penis Parker eats ass lol”  
“Ikr probably that fat fuck Ned’s”  
“Fucking weirdo”  
“Penis Parker has a million fucking STDs”  
“U can’t give yourself STDs dumbass”

***

Tony’s been looking forward to this.

Obviously he doesn’t get kicks out of punishing people, but he’ll be damned if they don’t deserve it.

He stands in the gym, the list of students Morita gave him in his hands. He had them all called from their classes to gather here, and had quickly came to the conclusion that pretty much everyone on the list had been part of the locker room incident, minus Ned Leeds, who was apparently Peter’s best friend.

In front of him are a ton of shocked teenage boys. He doesn’t blame them for being shocked, since he’s Tony Stark and they’re a bunch of pubescent assholes with bookbags lower than their GPAs.

“So,” Tony begins, “I’m assuming you’re all wondering why you’re here.”

Some kid starts to say something, something about a potential job opportunity.

Tony talks over him, not giving him a chance. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush here. Now, do any of you know Peter Parker?”

All the kids look around at each other, now more confused than shocked. 

One kid- the kid who Tony had talked over- steps in front of the group. He’s wearing a blue polo, has slicked back hair, and a cocky little smirk on his face.

“Yeah, we know Penis- whoops, I mean Peter.” The kid fakes looking bad about his little “slip-up.” “What about him?”

The group of guys immediately snicker, which seems to feed this kid’s ego even more.

“You must be Eugene Thompson.” Tony says, his voice not giving anything away.

“It’s Flash, actually.” Flash grins, and extends his hand for a handshake. Tony rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses. It’s so obvious what this kid is going for, trying to be all cool and suave.

Tony knows he does it better.

“Seriously? People call you Flash?” Tony asks incredulously. “I’d hate to know what you had to do to earn a nickname after one of the lamest comic book heroes in history. You might want to put that hand back, by the way, looks a little sweaty.”

Flash’s face turns tomato red, but he pulls his hand away. “So are you, like, here to debunk all those rumours Parker is spreading about his internship with you?” 

“Rumours?” Tony raises an eyebrow.

Flash puffs up his chest a little. “Yeah, rumours. I mean, there’s no way someone like him could work with you. I mean, you’re super smart and totally rich, and you’re Tony Stark, so.”

Ah, the ass-kissing routine. As if Tony hasn’t seen it before.

“People like him? What exactly makes Peter so different from you all he has his own category?” 

Flash seems to take Tony’s curiosity as a good sign, which could not be a bigger mistake. 

“Well, you know. He’s a total wuss, and he barely has any friends. That type. Not like guys like us, sir.” Flash grins, looking back at the group of guys, who are nodding as if to affirm this.

Tony clenches his fists. God, he hates that the kid has to go through this. Snotty types like Flash are nothing he can’t handle, sure, but he shouldn’t have to handle this. Peter does so much for everyone, and yet this is how he’s thanked?

Not to mention the fact that Flash seems to think Tony should agree with him. Guys like us? Tony knows he’s been a bit of an asshole- to put it lightly, in his opinion- in the past, but he’d rather die than be associated with snarky little douchebags like Flash.

“Well, Flash,” Tony says his name with such sarcasm it actually wipes the smirk off of Flash’s face, “I can assure you that you and I are nowhere near the same level, and you definitely won’t get any higher with that asshole attitude of yours- believe me, I know.”

The whole gym goes silent.

“Now, this goes for all of you- did you really think you’d get away with tormenting my kid-” Tony doesn’t even realize what he’s said, too caught up in his rage, “-and get away with it? I’m assuming this whole bullying situation has been going on for a long time, but karma’s a bitch. So, if I ever hear that any of you are messing with Peter Parker again- are you listening, Thompson?” Tony takes a step towards Flash, who looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Yes sir.” he mumbles.

“Glad to hear it. Basically, you can kiss all of your hopes of getting into literally any college bye-bye- although, judging by all of your GPAs, it’s not like you should have had many in the first place.” Tony puts his hands on his hips, which is a total Pepper move, but whatever, it works. “Do you understand me?”

Everyone nods, all looking pretty frightened.

“Can we go now?” Flash asks, a hint of annoyance in his voice, no doubt at the fact that Tony Stark is defending the kid he’s been bullying all this time.

“Not before I tell you all that you have Saturday detention for three weeks.” Tony grins when he hears them all groan in defeat. None of them seem to have a complaint.

Except for, god, Flash. As soon as he opens his mouth, Tony is about ready to tape it shut.

“That’s not fair!” Flash complains, taking a step towards Tony. 

Ooh, is Flash really trying to get all tough with him?

“You’re right, it’s not fair. That’s why you’re getting two months worth of Saturday detention. It should honestly be more, but your principal drew the line at that.” Tony shrugs nonchalantly, although on the inside he’s holding in laughter as this brat’s jaw drops.

“I...I’m not going! You can’t make me go, that’s inhumane!” 

At this, Tony whips off his sunglasses and stares Flash straight in the eyes. How many times a day is he going to have to pull this move?

But as usual, it works. Flash falters.

“I don’t know, Thompson. I’d argue that throwing shit at someone who got sick before your very eyes is inhumane. I’d argue that dunking someone's head in a toilet is, too, or shoving them in the halls- oh, don’t give me that look, did you seriously think I wouldn’t check the security footage?” 

“I’m telling my dad. He’ll… he’ll sue you.” 

“Great. Like that’ll put a dent in my savings.” Tony snorts. “By the way, who are you taking to Homecoming? Assuming any girl would want to go with you, of course.’

Flash looks confused. “I’m taking Jessica Smith-”

“What? Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” Tony interrupts.

“I said, I’m taking Jessica Smi-”

“What? What did you say?” Tony cups a hand around his ear.

“I’m taking-”

“Come again?” Tony’s voice is the epitome of nonchalant.

“JESSICA SMITH!” Flash yells, cheeks flushed in frustration. Everyone in the room stares at him.

Tony bites back the urge to ask Flash how it feels, how it feels to be embarrassed in front of everyone with no one helping you.

Flash shrinks.

“There’s no need to yell.” Tony says, amused. “You’ll have to tell Jessica Smith, as you so clearly told me, that you can’t go, though, seeing as your tickets have been revoked.”

“You can’t do that-” Flash begins, and Tony cuts him off this time by simply holding a hand up.

“I’m not sure if you were aware of this, Eugene, but I can do whatever I want. I’m Tony Stark, isn’t that what you told me?” Tony remarks with obvious faux sympathy. “You’re all free to go now. God knows how many meetings I’m missing right now.” 

And with that, Tony Stark walks out of Midtown, leaving behind a seething Flash Thompson.

 

***

Excerpt from “The Mystery Behind The Mask,” by Maria Ramirez, page 315:

“... and the thing was, we were all divided into groups. There were the ones who were happy, in a sickening way, since they’d claimed from the beginning that Spider-Man was a menace. They were a relatively small group. Then there were the ones who tried to pretend the Homecoming incident, and Spider-Man himself, never existed, in denial. They were also a relatively small group.   
But the majority of us all were just plain shocked, not at only the reveal of Spider-Man’s identity, but at the fact that what had happened at Homecoming happened at the first place. Spider-Man, to most of us, I’d like to believe, was a good person. He helped people, no matter how big or small their issues.   
My friend, Barbara, recounted to me the day she was held at gunpoint, all for her purse. It was the middle of the night, and seemingly no one was around- yet she’d been mugged out of the middle of nowhere. Right after the muggers took her purse and were about to shoot her, Spider-Man swung in, webbed them up, returned her purse, and walked her home. He was supposedly very polite about the whole thing.”

 

***

Peter feels practically heartbroken, after the ferry incident. He feels heartbroken that he’s let Mr. Stark down so badly, that without Mr. Stark all those people could have died, that his suit is gone and he’s no longer allowed to escape from reality and become Spider-Man, but revert back to Peter Parker.

His happiness at Liz agreeing to go to Homecoming with him almost weighs out those feelings.

It feels good, in a way. To be a normal teenager, excited to take the person he’s been hopelessly crushing on to a school function.

And when he tells Aunt May, her smile stretches so wide Peter thinks her jaw might break.

“Oh, Peter! This is so… oh, God, I feel like I’m about to cry,” May gushes, and Peter laughs.

Of course, there isn’t much time to get ready. Peter’s literally asked her the same day of Homecoming, which is his only regret. If he’d had known she’d say yes, he’d have asked her way before, so he’d have more time to get ready.

That’s why he and May are currently rifling through his closet, looking for something at least resembling a suit for him to wear.

“Um… how about this?” May pulls out a black dinner jacket with matching dress pants.

Peter shakes his head. “I don’t think that fits me anymore. The last time I wore it was, like, on Easter three years ago, so…”

“Yeah. No good,” May hangs the little number back up. “We should really do some spring cleaning soon, starting with this closet.”

Under normal circumstances, Peter would laugh, but he’s too busy nervously pacing around his room. “Oh god, oh god, oh god. I… I don’t have anything to wear, and I only have like three hours before we have to pick Liz up, and I should have just manned up like Ned said and asked her days ago, and- what if she wanted to color coordinate our outfits?! Girls do that, right? I don’t even know how to dance, and my hair is a mess- why would they make Homecoming on a school day?”

“I’ve got it!” May snaps her fingers, and runs out of Peter’s room, leaving him alone to fret by himself. 

What if Liz cancels on him last minute? She isn’t the type to do so, but what if someone cooler asks her? Is he going to have to slow dance with her? He wouldn’t normally mind, but he doesn’t know how. Oh god, he’s probably going to embarrass himself, and Liz probably knows all about the locker room incident, because who doesn’t by this point, and-

May walks back in with a brown box in her hands.

“What’s that?” Peter asks.

May gives him a small smile and lifts off the lid. Inside is a white tuxedo and corsage. 

“This was your Uncle Ben’s. He wore this when he took me to our senior prom- which was a total mess, by the way- and he gave me this,” May holds up the corsage. It’s pretty, and looks uncanny to a rose. A faraway look is in her eyes.

“May-” Peter starts, but May shushes him.

“Ben would want you to wear this, Peter. You work so hard to be good. You deserve to go to a school dance every once in a while with the girl you like, and you deserve to look nice. I know Ben would agree with me a hundred percent.” May insists, and hands the box to him.

Peter has tears in his eyes. “May, I… you really think he’d be okay with this?”

Peter can’t help but feel the guilt he always does whenever Ben is mentioned. Does he even deserve to wear this suit, give away this corsage?

“Of course he would be, Peter. He loved you. I love you. And I want you to have a good time.” May strokes his cheek, and there are tears in her eyes too.

Peter nods. “I’ll go, um, get dressed.”

And he does.

 

*** 

Excerpt from “Mutant Menace,” by Harry P. Rabitiwotz, page 87:

“And, really, who can still stand by Spider-Man, aka Peter Parker after what he did? Those children did not deserve to die. They deserved to be having the time of their lives at that damn dance. Peter Parker, however, didn’t even deserve to go to Homecoming alongside those kids, with what a freak he truly was. Freak, murderer, menace, goodnight, I say.   
I was allowed the privilege of attending the burial service, which was publicly televised to channels all over the nation. There were almost too many bodies to bury. And all those weeping parents, and people, for those who died at Homecoming and Peter Parker's fire, dressed in black… Peter Parker was a cold blooded killer, wrapped up in two pathetic alter-egos, Spider-Man, the neighborhood terror, and Penis Parker as he was called- rightfully, in my opinion- the kid at school whom no one liked, and for good reason, now knowing what he was capable of. Mutants are becoming a bigger and bigger problem, how many deaths do we have to see...”

 

***

It’s time.

Peter and May sit in their car, parked outside of Liz’s house. Peter’s dressed in Uncle Ben’s suit, holding the corsage he’d given Aunt May.

It was safe to say he was a nervous wreck. 

“Oh, Peter…” May sighs happily, “You look so handsome.”

Peter tries to give her a smile, but his heart is pounding like crazy. “Thanks, May. We’re lucky it fit.”

May nods, and starts to wipe at her eyes. “Oh, look at me crying now. It’s just that my little baby is all grown up!” She cups Peter’s cheek in her hand. Normally, Peter would be a bit embarrassed by this statement, but he’s honestly too wrapped up in his own infinite anxieties to say anything about it.

“Remember what we practiced, okay? Dancing, and remember to give her the corsage before you get to the dance. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you two? I’d love to meet your new girlfriend,” she teases, and Peter can’t help but laugh.

“It’s fine, May, we can just take an Uber. I know Midtown is kind of far from here.” Peter reassures, and May gives another nod before staring into his eyes.

“You’re going to have fun, okay? It’s going to be great. You deserve this.” May says, and Peter feels his heart swell. May knows that he’s not exactly popular. And to hear her say he deserves this, well…

Maybe he does.

“Love you, May. And- thank you. For all of this.” Peter says, and it feels weird. Not to say he loves May, but there’s this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he won’t be able to say it again.

Maybe that feeling is also what made him slip his web-shooters on- his old ones from his own suit, which are small enough that they’re unnoticable unless someone was really looking at his hands.

He doesn’t know why he took them. It isn’t like there’s going to be bank robbers at Homecoming, but something that just told him he’d need him.

“I love you too,” May kisses his cheek, and Peter steps out of the car. “Call me if you need anything!” she calls to him as he walks up the driveway to Liz’s place, and he gives her a thumbs-up.

And with that, May drives off, and Peter is left staring at the absence of their old, kind of junky but overall endearing car.

He doesn’t know why he feels like he’s never going to see it again, too.

Tentatively, Peter knocks on the front door, and Liz’s mom opens it up to greet him.

After her inviting him in, gushing over just how handsome he looks, Liz finally shows up, done getting ready.

Peter feels like his breath has been stolen away.

Liz looks nothing short of amazing in her pink dress and heels, hair curled ever so slightly.

“Wow,” Peter mumbles, and Liz blushes, but laughs it off.

“I-I mean, uh, you look great. Really. You do.” Peter stammers, mentally slapping himself for acting so stupid.

“Thanks,” Liz smiles a bit bashfully. “That tux looks really good on you.”

“Oh, you two look wonderful!” Liz’s mom gushes, and then absolutely insists that she take a few photos of them.

Peter doesn’t mind. He smiles for the camera, Liz taller than him in her heels, hands just a little bit less sweaty than before.

After that, it’s about time for them to leave, lest their Uber cancel on them for being too late.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adrian couldn’t drive you two, and that I can’t. He’s out of town for work again- with the car, too.” Liz’s mom apologizes, and they both assure her it’s fine. 

And, really, Peter feels like it is.

 

***

The Uber ride isn’t awkward, per say. It’s more of just a nervous thing, Liz talking about the other people attending Homecoming, who is going with who, who’s wearing what.

As they’re just arriving to Midtown, about two minutes away, Liz raises an eyebrow with a small smile. 

“You can talk too, Peter.” she says, and Peter just knows his face is going red.

“Um, sorry. I’m just a bit-”  
“Nervous?” Liz guesses. “You don’t have to be, Peter. You already did the so-called hard part- asking me. Now we get to have fun.”

This comforts him a bit. “Yeah, you’re, uh, right. I’ve just never really gone to a dance with someone like this before. I mean, I’ve gone with Ned- platonically- but those were all middle school dances.”

“The only time I’ve ever gone with-gone with someone was, like, in my freshman year. He ended up ditching me to dance with another girl, though.” Liz recalls, and Peter can’t help but look a little surprised. 

“That’s- wow- that’s horrible. What did you do?” 

“I ended up calling my dad to pick me up. He actually wanted to chew that guy out, and I had to get him to calm down. I’m honestly kind of glad he’s not here right now- I mean, I love him, but he’d probably give you a dad talk.” Liz admits. 

“I don’t think I could handle one of those.” Peter laughs, a bit nervously, yes, but things seem to be going well. And this conversation hasn’t derailed, so maybe, just maybe, the rest of tonight won’t as well?

Their ride comes to a stop in front of their school. People are walking inside, dressed in dance-appropriate attire- dresses and suits and heels and ties.

They pay and get out.

It was 7:45 P.M. 

 

***

Excerpt from “The Times and Life Newspaper,” article written by James K. Tegan:

“PIGS SWIMMING WITH THE FISHES?

Last night, farmer Rey Thompson found two of his pigs brutally slaughtered. One of the pigs was fully grown, the other just a baby. This all occurred at Sunshine Customs Farm, local egg and milk supplier to a few supermarket chains. There seemed to be no weapon, and no clues left behind to how the pigs were killed, either. Rey speculates the pigs could have been slaughtered by a wild animal, such as a wolf or even a coyote…”

 

***

Peter had honestly thought, after his little conversation with Liz, that he wasn’t really that nervous anymore.

Now his heart practically screams at him as they enter the gym.

A big banner hangs at the entrance, which reads, in blue glitter, “MIDTOWN’S ANNUAL HOMECOMING DANCE!”

There’s blue crepe paper strewn across the ceilings, silver stars hung on them as well, and- Peter can’t help but find this funny- a disco ball as well, shining on all the students.

On the stage, a DJ is blaring out music- it’s sort of outdated, but Peter doesn’t mind, unlike some other students who are groaning about how old these songs are.

There are also tables set up- multiple tiny ones covered in white cloth, which are for the students to sit at. Then there’s a longer one near the entrance of the gym, with a few people sitting at it, a box in front of one of them.

“What’s that for?” Peter gestures to the table.

“I think that’s where they tally up all the votes for Homecoming king and queen. They do it every year.” Liz shrugs.

“Oh.” Peter mumbles, and that’s as far as that conversation goes.

“Want to sit?” Liz gestures to one of the tables, and Peter gratefully nods- he feels sort of awkward, just standing there among dancing people.

They make their way over to one of the tables and sit. 

“Oh, aren’t these so cute?” Liz holds up one of the party favors placed on the table. It’s a little boat, with a few Hershey’s Kisses and a pencil inside.

“Boats? Is that, like, this year’s theme?” Peter inspects his own boat, taking out a chocolate.

“I kind of doubt they made boats the theme,” Liz laughs. “Um, no, though. I don’t even know if they have a theme this year. It’s not like it’s obvious.”

“Um… we could just make our own theme?” Peter suggests.

“Make our own theme?” Liz grins. “Liiiike… A Night in Queens?”

“Yeah, perfect.” Peter laughs a little. “I don’t know how the, um, decorating committee would get on that, though.”

“Oh, come on. There’s so much they could do to represent our very home-city.” Liz jokes.

“Like… cardboard cutouts of bank robbers? With, um… a few people on the bleachers yelling at you?”

“That sounds right. But what would they yell?” Liz asks. 

“Um…” Peter takes a deep breath, and does the worst New-Yorker expression known to man. “Bada bing, bada boom, I’m walkin’ here!”

Liz actually laughs at that, and Peter’s heart skips a beat, but in a good way. It’s a pretty sound, and it means Liz is actually enjoying his company. And Peter finds himself forgetting that he’s Penis Parker. He’s one of the crowd, just another person who can enjoy the dance like everyone else.

If only he knows how wrong he is.

 

***

“Okay, okay- you like Star Wars, right?” Liz asks, and Peter nods.

By now, they’ve sort of lapsed into easy conversation. Liz doesn’t seem to mind that they’re not dancing, and Peter feels comfortable.

It’s nice. More than nice.

“So, eff, marry, kill- Chewbacca, Yoda, or… Jabba the hut?” Liz grins, twirling her pencil around in her hand. It’s a game he’s heard her play with her friends on the bleachers before, and it’s almost like he’s a part of something, just by playing this game.

Even if whatever he says will no doubt be totally mortifying.

Peter blushes. “Oh, come on! That’s just unfair.”

“You’re super quick at answering questions in Decathlon practice. You have to be quick now.” Liz teases. “Ten seconds.”

“Fine, fine!” Peter holds his hands up, and then rushes out, “Um, eff Chewbacca, marry Yoda, and kill, uh, Jabba.”

Liz is visibly holding in her laughter. “You’d eff Chewbacca? And marry Yoda?”

“Chewbacca is, like, the closest thing there is to a human in those choices! And hey, Yoda is super wise, which would make for great husband material.” Peter laughs as well, although his cheeks are still flushed.

“I cannot believe you just said that little wrinkly green guy is great husband material. This is a side of you I’ve never seen.” Liz gently pokes him with her pencil, and it isn’t like the millions of times people have quite literally stabbed him in the neck with pencils during lessons.

It’s a playful gesture.

“Yeah, I guess I-”

“Oh my god, Liz! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” A group of girls and their dates approach their table. A few of them sort of look at Peter, not with hate or anything, but as if they’re a bit surprised to see him there.

“Oh my god! You guys all look so pretty!” Liz squeals, and the girls do the same thing. Their dates are talking with one another.

Before Peter can even start to feel left out, Liz says, “This is my date, Peter. He’s part of the Decathlon team.”

If any of them know about the locker room incident- which they no doubt do, everyone knows- none of them say anything.

“Hey, man.” One of the guys lightly bumps his shoulder in greeting. “I’m Ryan. That’s Kelsey.” he gestures to his date, a girl with red hair and a blue wrap-around dress.

And now, one by one, they’re all introducing themselves. There’s Maria and John, Tammy and Stacey, Madeline and Steve. 

Peter recognizes most of them. They’ve never picked on him directly or anything, but they’ve been there, one of the many faces in the crowd, watching and sometimes laughing as someone with more balls actually picked on him.

And yet here they were, acting as if he wasn’t Penis Parker, and just one of them.

Maybe they’re trying to be nice?

If they are, Peter’s glad. This is beyond awesome, not to have someone make fun of him, to be one of the gang.

“Dude, that suit looks fucking awesome on you. I had to get mine from my dad.” John is saying to him.

“Uh, thanks. It’s pretty uncomfortable, though.” Peter decides not to tell them this is Ben’s.

“I know, right? Like, why do they expect us to wear suits to these things? It’s Homecoming, not the Met Gala.” Steve groans, tugging at his tie.

And- thanks to his enhanced hearing- Peter hears the girls talking to Liz.

“Isn’t he a sophomore? He’s totally cute for one.” Maria whispers.

“He’s kind of ripped, though. Don’t you see his muscles from under the suit?” Tammy asks.

“Totally. How did he ask you?” Madeline questions, and Liz begins to tell them about Peter asking her by the trophy case.

And that’s how it is, for a bit. Peter ends up talking with the guys- apparently, they’ve watched a few Star Wars movies too. They joke, and laugh at Peter’s jokes, and even end up finding out they share a lot of the same opinions- that the school’s track team kind of sucked, that pineapples belonged on pizza- John was the only one who disagreed- that the gym uniforms always fit too weird.

Peter manages to keep this up for a bit, until thirst kicks in. He excuses himself, and makes his way to Liz.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get some punch. Do you, um, want any?”

Liz flashes a smile at him. “Yes, please. I’m totally thirsty. Just be sure that no one spiked it.”

“They actually do that? I thought that was only in movies.” Peter says, and the rest of the girls giggle, but not in a mean way, not calling him a loser.

“No, yeah, I did too, until last year when Jenna Valentine got smashed and puked on Mr. Harrington.” Liz shrugs.

“Wow. Well, uh, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen to us, then.” Peter then proceeds to totally NOT blush extremely hard when Liz gives him a peck on the cheek, and then stammer out some sort of goodbye and make his way to the refreshments table, while the girls all call him cute and talk about how polite he is.

It doesn’t help his little blushing situation that Liz agrees.

As he scoops punch into two Dixie cups with one of those ladle-thingies- Peter sniffs at the punch when no one is looking, and it doesn’t smell like alcohol, so it should be okay- a hand clamps on his shoulder. 

“Dude. You’re killing it out there!” Ned is suddenly in front of him, expression all in awe.

“You think so?” Peter asks. “I mean, they all seem to like me, but you never know, man.”

“They totally do! You’re so lucky, Peter.” Ned nods vigorously, and Peter suddenly feels a little guilty.

“You know you can come hang out with us, right?”

“It’s cool, dude.” Ned shakes his head, and it’s honest. “I’m actually hanging out with the rest of the Decathlon team right now- and I think I’m going to ask Betty to dance.” Ned confesses, cheeks a bit red.

And, really, Peter would actually prefer Ned come with him, since he’s his best friend, but at this new confession, Peter knows this might be Ned’s chance to shine, too.

“You have to, now. I asked Liz to come.” Peter says, looking at the crowd. He can see the rest of the team chilling by the bleachers- well, most of the team. Flash isn’t there.

Funny enough, he hasn’t seen Flash at all today.

It does surprise him that Michelle is there, though- he honestly didn’t think she’d come, since she seems so anti-cliche, but then again, she came to Liz’s party, so.

“So,” Ned breaks Peter’s train of thought up, “Are you having a good time, though? Because if you’re not-”

“I am.” Peter interrupts, staring at everyone dancing. He feels so at ease- he’s not even thinking about how he shouldn’t belong, or how he doesn’t have his suit, or Mr. Stark.

It’s 8:30 P.M.

Catastrophe is approaching quickly.

 

***

By the time Peter makes his way back to Liz and hands her a cup of punch, the music has shifted into slow dance songs.

Peter sits next to Liz, and takes a sip of his punch, which is a bit too artificially fruity, but who is he to complain?

They’re silent, sitting next to each other, watching most of the students who came dancing. It’s sort of peaceful, in a weird way, as the disco ball shines gently on everyone and the music is nothing more than a soft hum.

Most of the people they were talking to were dancing now, too, so it’s just them alone, together.

“Oh!” Peter says suddenly, and pulls out the corsage from his pocket. “I forgot. I, um, got you this.”

Liz smiles. “Thanks, that’s sweet of you.” She doesn’t make a move to grab it, though, even though she seems happy about it.

Oh, right. Peter takes the hint and fastens it to her dress, with an almost minimal amount of awkward fumbling.

“Yeah. It was actually my uncle’s. He gave it to my aunt on their prom.” Peter confesses.

“Really? When was that?”

“I, uh, have no idea,” Peter laughs. “My aunt is actually pretty young, but I’m pretty sure Delmar’s wasn’t even around then.”

“Delmar’s?” Liz asks. “What’s that?”

“It’s this really great sandwich place. It’s only a few blocks away.” While it had been recently destroyed from that bank robbery, the place had actually been repaired pretty quickly, and was now open for business again.

“Oh? Well, maybe after this, we could go?” Liz suggests, and Peter tries his best to hide the dorky happiness that’s overtaking him. Liz actually wants to go out with him again?

“S-Sure! Sounds great!” Peter stammers.

There’s another silence- a more comfortable one- when Liz asks him the dreaded question. “So. Want to dance?”

Peter immediately feels all of his insecurities coming back to haunt him again. Sure, he’d let Aunt May teach him how to dance, but that hadn’t been in front of a ton of people, and plus, they were almost the same height. Liz was taller than him- even with heels.

“Oh. I, um, don’t think that’s a good idea?”

Liz looks a bit confused. Worried, even. “Why not? Everyone else is.”

Everyone else. Everyone else.

“I’ve never really danced before. I’ll probably be horrible.” Peter admits, and Liz shakes her head.

“That’s the whole point, Peter. This is a school dance, everyone’s horrible. Come on, I promise it’ll be fun!”

Reluctantly, Peter nods, and Liz grabs his hand and gets up- Peter’s face is on fire, because Liz Allan, the girl of his dreams, is holding his probably very sweaty hand, and leading him to the dance floor.

Once they get there, though, Peter’s mind goes blank amongst the rest of his fellow students, who are dancing like they’ve always known how. Everything May told him is totally gone.

Liz, thankfully, is on it.

She faces him, and guides his hands around her waist. Then, she puts hers on his shoulders.

“What now?” Peter asks, and while he knows it’s a stupid question, he honestly doesn’t know what comes next.

“We sway. It’s easy.” 

So they sway, like everyone else. The music is soft, and under the lights, Liz looks beautiful- not that she doesn’t already- and Peter almost feels like he’s in a dream.

“Why am I here?” Peter blurts out. He hadn’t meant to say it, and yet the phrase had leapt out on it’s own.

“What do you mean?” Liz asks, and she’s looking into his eyes with her own soft, chocolate ones.

“I mean- why am I here, with you? You could have gone with anyone, and I’m just this guy on your Decathlon team- I’m not even a senior.” Peter speaks. 

“You’re here with me because I like you, Peter.” Liz’s statement is simple, and yet it feels like it means everything, as they dance together. It really is like a dream.

“You- you do?” Peter mumbles. He needs it. A confirmation, that he isn’t dreaming, that everything is real.

“I do, Peter. You’re sweet, and you’re smart, and you’re kind of dorky- but in a cute way.” Liz is blushing a bit now, but she’s smiling, and Liz thinks he’s cute, and now they’re both leaning in closer and- 

They kiss. 

Peter feels like he’s floating.

Liz breaks away from the kiss, and her cheeks are flushed, eyes sparkling, and she’s smiling.

Peter knows he probably looks like a tomato, but he doesn’t care.

“That was- wow.” Peter stumbles over his words, and Liz giggles.

Suddenly, the music stops, and a teacher is speaking up into the microphone, standing onstage.

“Alright, everyone! It is now time to cast in your votes for Homecoming king and queen. Please turn your votes in at the ballot box near the front.”

“I- what?” Peter feels a bit disoriented. He’s just had his very first kiss, and now he’s being told to vote for Homecoming king and queen.

It’s a lot to take in.

“Come on!” Liz takes his hand again and leads him back to their table, where a ballot paper is being placed.

Peter takes a look at it, and sure enough-

“We’re- we’re on here.” Peter’s shocked. He knows how this sort of thing is decided, who gets to be voted for- the couples that look the most popular get put on the ballot, and then people vote for who they like best- but Peter never expected for one of the options to say, “Peter Parker & Liz Allan” with a little checkbox next to their names.

“Wow. I guess people like us.” Liz doesn’t sound as surprised as Peter, but Peter supposes it’s because she’s not used to being treated like gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

Peter takes the pencil from his little boat. “Who should we vote for? I don’t really, uh, hang around with these people? So you’re probably more qualified to tell me who deserves it.”

Liz looks at him as if he’s said something funny. “Oh come on, Peter. We should vote for ourselves.” And with that, she checks off the little box with their names next to it on her ballot.

“I-I mean, I guess? I just feel like there are people who want it more. I don’t think I’m a Homecoming king type, anyway.” Peter says, a bit bashfully. Maybe he just shouldn’t vote. 

“I think you’d make a good king. Besides, it’s really not that big a deal. All you have to do is get up on stage while they play the school song, give you a crown, and then have one dance.” 

Peter considers this, biting his lip. On one hand, there are probably people who want it more than him. On the other hand, how many people are really going to vote for them? It couldn’t vote to cast a vote in for themselves.

Peter checks off the box next to their name.

 

***

It takes about twenty minutes for everyone to vote, and then another ten for all the ballots to be collected and counted. 

Peter can feel Liz’s nervous yet excited energy next to him. For once, though, Peter isn’t totally nervous. Sure, it would be nice to be crowned Homecoming king and queen, but he doubts that they’ll actually get elected.

And it doesn’t bother him. Tonight has been great. A dream come true. Being chosen would be the cherry on top, but Peter doesn’t necessarily need a cherry right now.

Okay, so it’s not a great analogy, but it’s true.

Finally, all the votes are counted, and a teacher goes up to the stage, speaking into the microphone.

“Attention, please! We have tallied the votes, and-”

“This competition is kind of all about objectification, don’t you think?” M.J says. She isn’t speaking loudly or anything, but she’s near the front of the stage, so everyone heard her.

“Um,” the teacher looks a bit taken aback, and Peter doesn’t blame him. “Anyway, we have our Homecoming king and queen!”

It’s clear the teacher expects applause, but only gets an awkward “Whoo!” from some guy.

The teacher coughs. “So! Midtown’s Homecoming king and queen are, by a landslide… Peter Parker and Liz Allan! Get on up here, you two!”

Peter doesn’t know what to do. He’s in shock. His legs feel like Jello, and everyone is staring at him.

But not in a bad way.

They’re clapping. They’re smiling, and cheering, no traces of sarcasm or anger.

Liz is smiling at him, eyes shining brightly. “We won, Peter!” She takes his hand, and together, they walk to the stage. The crowd parts for him, and there are no outstretched legs or shoves or jeers.

When they get up on stage, crowns are placed on their heads. Liz is waving at some of her friends.

Peter can see Ned in the crowd, standing next to M.J. He looks ecstatic, clapping and cheering louder than everyone. M.J flips him off, but it’s lovingly.

Even the people who have bullied him are cheering. And now, Peter feels something he hasn’t felt for a long time.

Accepted.

They were voted king and queen, which means enough people liked him enough to consider putting him up here. And now, underneath the blaring stage lights, everyone is cheering for him, celebrating him.

And Peter feels it. What it’s liked to be liked. And now he gets what Mr. Stark said, in a way. He doesn’t need Spider-Man to be happy. Because tonight, tonight is proof enough that something good was coming. That, even in a seemingly infinite sea of shitty days, him putting up with the bullying, him doing his best to always be good to everyone no matter what, was worth it. He’s Homecoming king, Liz is his girlfriend, his bullies now accept him, and now, his life just might be taking a turn for the better.

Peter smiles. There are tears in his eyes- something is going to happen, his spidey-senses are off the charts, but not now, he’s not Spider-Man, he’s Peter Parker, he can ignore it- and he feels as if he’s about to cry out of joy. 

He tilts his head back, wanting to soak in the light, and then-

Peter doesn’t process what’s happened at first. He just experiences it, seeing the bucket set above him on the upper stage ramps, where the stage lights are, seeing the redness coming from it, onto him, being completely drenched, something is warm, and sticky, and thick, and it’s some sort of liquid.

Peter Parker is soaked.

He hears the bucket clang, except it’s not on the floor, it’s on Liz’s head, and Liz falls to the ground, unconscious.

“I think that’s blood,” someone whispers.

His senses are everywhere. It’s blood, and it’s warm, and oh, god, it smells, and Peter is soaked, Ben’s suit is ruined, help, why isn’t anyone doing anything, help, help, help-

Someone laughs. 

It’s a laugh Peter is very, very familiar with, high pitched and cruel and full of hate.

Then, suddenly, everyone seems to be laughing at him. Pointing, jeering. Ryan is doubled over, Cindy Moon has tears in her eyes, and Peter is drenched-

Everyone is staring, staring, staring, Peter looks down at himself, the white suit is drenched, and-

Peter raises his hand, and it looks as if someone has dipped it in a bucket of red paint, and now it’s set in.

It’s set in how badly he’s been cheated, the final trick, the last straw.

Peter feels something inside of him break, as he runs his hands over his face in horror. Everyone is staring, and laughing, and the blood is sticky, and they CHEATED HIM, they’re all laughing, his vision is swimming, he doesn’t know where Ned is, the teachers are even laughing, EVERYONE IS STARING, EVERYONE IS LAUGHING-

Peter lets out a sort of strangled cry. He doesn’t know what to do. His senses are going haywire, everyone is laughing, Ben’s suit is ruined-

And Peter sees it all.

He sees it, every bad thing that’s happened to him. His parents dying when he was so young, moving in with Aunt May and Uncle Ben who hadn’t even wanted kids, Flash trapping him in his locker in eighth grade, someone pushing him in the hallways, pantsing him, Penis Parker, Penis Parker, Ben in his arms, blood flowering at his chest because it’s Peter’s fault, Ben’s funeral, May sobbing, May having to provide on just once income now, back to school and now it’s Penis Parker all over again, pushed in the swimming pool, gum in his hair, posts about him online, graffiti, being bitten by that damn spider, getting sick, Spider-Man is a menace, according to all the headlines, Mr. Stark benching him in Germany, no one believing him about his internship, teachers turning a blind eye, the locker room, Liz’s disappointment during D.C, failing at saving everyone at the ferry, Mr. Stark’s disappointment, sword-like in it’s pain, no more suit, May’s angry- but no, one night, one magical night, no Ben or Penis Parker or Spider-Man, just a dance and a kiss and acceptance and now this, this, this, a trick, cheated, the final straw, the final straw, the final-

Ned runs over to him. “Peter! Peter, are you-”

Peter doesn’t think. He doesn’t even look at Ned. He outstretches his arm and shoves him.

Ned goes flying and slams into the wall. Most people don’t seem to notice, still pointing and laughing so hard they cry, because how funny is this? Penis Parker on stage, covered in blood, covered, soaked, drenched, fuck-

He’s tried. He’s tried so hard to be good. Because with great power comes great responsibility- his parent’s funeral- with great power comes great responsibility- Ben getting shot- with great power comes great responsibility- shoved into lockers- with great power comes great responsibility- “I wanted you to be better”- with great power-

With great power.

And just as he had felt a moment ago, Peter feels something new, taking over his body, screaming inside of him.

Hatred. Anger. An urge.

He should leave, he should just go home, take a shower, cry it out-

NO.

The word is so powerful Peter is stunned. He can’t do it. He doesn’t want a future with everyone calling him names on Monday, reminding him about this, back to square one all over again.

Peter wants to- to hurt them. The urge is so strong, Peter is in disbelief. Make them all cry, yes, show them how it feels to be on the receiving end, while Penis Parker laughs harder than he ever has in his pathetic little life.

With great power, with great power, with great power.

Peter isn’t there. He’s somewhere else, away, when he sticks out his arm again. He’s seeing, he’s hearing, but his thoughts are a train on high speed, his senses- Liz and Ned, on the floor, knocked out, blood running down his face, his Spanish teacher giggling like a schoolgirl- are off the charts.

Peter fires his web shooters at the doors..

The webs wrap themselves around the two door handles, and slam the doors shut.

This gets some people’s attention. The doors aren’t supposed to shut, it’s a state law, in case of a fire emergency.

Make them cry, make them cry. Peter is giving in, hurt, angry, embarrassed, ashamed.

Is this how people become villains?

There is no thinking. Only sensing. Seeing as a few people walk over to the doors. Hearing them grunt as they tug at the doors, but no, no, his web formula is completely wrapped around the handles, not budging, doors locked, hearing as they call for help, more people to burst open the door.

Yet it’s not enough. No one is crying. No one is Penis Parker.

Peter fires his web shooters again, only this time, it’s at one of the sprinklers. Peter knows that if one sprinkler is set off, it sets off every other sprinkler as well. 

And it does. 

“What the-” Abe, from Decathlon- Abe was laughing too, an ugly snorting sound- raises his hands above his head as suddenly water pours down like rain from above.

Immediately, most of the girls are groaning and shrieking in displeasure, trying to cover their fancy hair-do’s and couture dresses.

With great power. I wanted you to be better. But what happens when no one else is?

No thoughts, no thoughts, Peter is sensing. Screaming senses.

More people are at the doors now, in a panic, trying to get out of the ‘rain’. They’re throwing themselves against the doors, yelling- no, not enough. Tripped in the hallways, gym clothes thrown in the piss-filled toilet, rumours spread that he had every STD known to man.

“Everyone, stay calm!” The teachers are yelling, but it’s no good, everyone is in a panic. 

One of the teachers- Mr. Harrington- grabs at the microphone, to say something, but immediately screams, smoke coming from his shirt, feet in a frenzy. Electrocuted, water and electricity.

Someone screams. 

Cords, cords, from the DJ equipment, as water soaks the floor further, anyone who touches them is getting electrocuted, hair standing on edge, smoke and sparks flying.

Thousands of students doing that funny little electricity dance, falling to the ground, smelling burnt, like pork.

His senses tell him someone just got the brilliant idea to use the fire escape. No, naughty- Peter uses his webs to slam the door shut, no thoughts, just sensing as the person- Henry Greene- screams, arm being severed from the sheer force of the slam.

Sparks are flying. Peter senses, watches, as a spark from a girl’s dress who was electrocuted- she’s on the floor in a heap now, something tells Peter she, and everyone else who was electrocuted, is dead- flies off onto one of the table cloths.

This is when the fire starts. The cloth goes up in flames, red, orange, yellow- Peter recalls when he was eight, and the apartment complex next to theirs caught on fire, May and Ben insisting they leave lest theirs catches fire too- and it spreads, one table to the next, burning brightly.

Spider-Man is a menace, the Bugle says. Can’t be trusted. Uncle Ben is falling to the ground, a bullet in his chest, and Flash is giving him a swirlie.

Those who haven’t been electrocuted are now screaming in terror. Peter hears Dawn Fiora scream, “I don’t want to die!”

His parents are dead, Ben is dead, a curse.

Now. Now they are crying. Peter knows they know there is no hope, this little minority of students left, as they throw themselves against the doors, screaming for help, crying, as the gym- no, the school- burns around them.

Peter moves.

Not off the stage, onto the floor, but walks, up the wall of the stage, and onto the ceiling, pushes a tile off the roof as the flames spread bigger and wider than ever, screams below him, cries of terror, and leaves.

Peter doesn’t waste time. He is on the roof now, but that’s falling in, so Peter jumps off and swings, down the street, and lets himself land. 

He begins to walk.

 

***

Flash prides himself on many things, one of them being very, very clever, in his own opinion.

So when he receives the news from Tony Stark himself that he won’t be going to Homecoming because of Penis Parker, he decides to show Penis a Homecoming he’ll never forget.

One of Flash’s cousins owns a farm- part of the reason why his family has so much money- so he’s able to sneak in. He knows the farm has no security cameras, so that’s why when he slaughters the two pigs, he doesn’t hesitate. He stores the blood in one big bucket.

Pig blood for a pig.

Flash also calls in a few favors. 

His first favor is having his friend Jake Chesterwood sneak him into Homecoming through the fire exit. He sneaks backstage, which is totally deserted, and he sets up the bucket- rigged with a rope, of course- on the upper stage ramp, right where Penis will be.

Stupid fucking Penis. He was going to take Jessica Smith, had a suit ready and everything, and now he can’t, all because Penis is a baby and went crying to Daddy Stark.

He’s thankful, though, that his hatred of him is practically universal in Midtown, which helps him quite a bit when he calls in his next few favors.

His second favor is to get Norma Stein to help him rig the vote. When he’d gotten word that Penis had asked out Liz- who, by the way, was too hot for him- he’d immediately started forming his plan. He’d had to do it quick, though- slaughtering pigs and printing up fake ballot cards with their names on it all in one night wasn’t easy.

Yet there was a reason they called him Flash.

He’d gotten Norma to throw out the original ballots, and replace them with his newly printed rigged ones, Penis’s name at the very top. 

It also helped that he’d already voted on half of those ballots- a hundred and fifty votes for Penis and Liz.

His third and final favor was to ask around for more votes. He never explained his plan, but did let on that something big would happen if they voted for him.

And they did.

So, Flash stands backstage, rope in his right hand, phone in his left.

Oh, yeah. He’s also livestreaming the whole thing to his Instagram account- which has five hundred followers, by the way.

Flash grins when Peter and Liz’s names are called out. Penis looks like he’s about to piss his pants as he walks upstage.

God, he hates him. It isn’t fair that even though he isn’t as rich, as popular, or as cool as him, that he gets better grades and isn’t an alternate in Decathlon- with all those practices he never shows up to, he should be off the team.

And now that Flash has all these Saturday detentions waiting for him, and has missed out on actually going-going to Homecoming, Penis more than deserves this.

They crown him- he looks like an idiot- and Liz- she looks genuinely happy.

“Are you guys ready?” Flash whispers to his viewers- a hundred of them, and the number is only going up.

The rope is steady in his hands.

This is what’s weird, though- Penis looks up way before he pulls the rope. As if he knows what’s going to happen.

“Freak,” Flash hisses under his breath, and yanks the rope.

It’s awesome.

Penis looks like he’s been dipped in red paint. He’s gotten a literal face full of it.

Flash does his best to hold in his laughter as he runs out of the building. But no, he isn’t leaving. He stands outside, filming from the windows.

Penis looks like he’s been slapped. Staring at his hands. Even from outside the school, Flash can hear them all laughing.

Flash laughs along with them.

People are commenting in the chat.

“OMG THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY”

“Penis got soaked lol”

“This is awesome??? He looks so freaked out”

“Hope he cries”

“This is messed up. Who the hell would do this to someone? Stop streaming this, have some respect.”

Flash frowns at that one, but keeps filming Penis’s demise. They don’t have a sense of humour.

Liz, though, is on the ground. The bucket hit her on the head, hard enough to knock her out. Oh, well. Flash feels a pit in his stomach- that’s bad, but she’ll get up soon, right?

There are only two people who aren’t laughing- even the teachers are laughing- Ned- total fatso- and that probably future school shooter type freak, M.J.

M.J looks pissed, and is staring at Penis in shock.

Ned, however, is running towards him.

“Kinda surprised Fatty there can run, right?” Flash snickers, and the chat is overrun with laughing emojis and comments of agreement.

Then it starts. 

Just as Ned is reaching out to touch Penis, help him, Penis stretches out his arm and shoves the guy.

Ned goes flying and slams against the wall Flash is filming outside of. Flash jumps at the thud.

“Holy shit,” he mutters.

Penis’s eyes are all pop-eyed, wide, freaky-like.

Suddenly, a few people are running past where Flash can film from the windows. He doesn’t know why.

“Are they running to the doors or something?” Flash asks, and the chat questions the same thing.

Why would they be running towards the doors? They’re not supposed to lock- did they? But how?

Flash gets his answer when he moves the camera back to Penis. 

He’s doing some weird gesture, outstretching his hand, fingers bend weirdly, like the Spider-Man gesture.

Something shoots out of his hands, and the room seems to start raining from within.

“No,” Flash whispers. “No fucking way.”

Penis is not- cannot- be Spider-Man.

Flash actually gasps as suddenly, half of the people in the gym start jerking around, sparks flying.

They’re being electrocuted.

They fall in a heap to the floor.

Flash can’t stop filming.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, Penis is- he’s, he’s killing them, but he can’t, he can’t be-”

The camera catches someone running towards the fire exit, where Flash just so happens to be standing by. Penis sticks his arm out, and this time it’s for certain- he shoots webs at the door, and Flash screams as a severed arm falls out of it.

At the same time, a fire’s started- and that’s when Flash starts to run. 

“Holy fuck, holy fuck- they’re all going to die, Penis is- he’s Spider-Man, what the fuck?!”

Flash runs to his dad’s car, which is parked about a block from the school. Immediately, he stops the stream and starts the engine.

He needs to leave, skip town. He set this off, and now there’s video proof, and oh god, oh god.

Flash drives as fast as he can.

Isn’t Spider-Man supposed to be, like, a good guy? Flash rubs at his eyeballs, trying to get the horrifying images out of his head. 

He can’t stay in Queens. Especially not with-

Peter Parker stands in front of him.

 

***

 

Peter walks. He walks down the street.

He’s numb.

Everyone is dead, he thinks. No survivors.

It was too much. The final humiliation.

Peter can’t think. There’s nothing to think about. He just wants this blood off him, it’s violating.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he starts laughing.

Everything. Everything is gone now. They tricked him. He’s soaked, everyone, everything, the world, it’s tainted.

His brain keeps showing him everything, every shitty, unfair thing he’s been through.

How many times will he have to watch Ben die? Be shoved and groped and mocked? Hear Mr. Stark’s disappointment?

Peter thinks of the little girl he saved from the kidnapping. Why does the world have to be so ugly, so hateful, to people who don’t deserve it? Does he deserve it? He’s tried so hard his whole life, tried to be good and kind and right, and now this-

Is Spider-Man even here anymore?

Peter hears the car.

It figures a car would approach him, he’s walking in the middle of the road. He’s now blocks away from his school, but still.

Peter turns around and stares at the car.

Fancy, silver, screaming money.

Flash.

The car stops.

Peter stares.

Suddenly, the car, which is a ways from him, starts up again. Only this time, it shows no signs of stopping.

Flash is going to run him over.

Peter doesn’t move. Instead, he holds out his hands in front of him.

The car is in his grip as soon as it attempts to hit him.

He can see Flash’s expression. It’s shocked, shocked that little Penis Parker could stop a car with his bare hands.

“Spider-Man- Peter-” Flash chokes out.

Peter doesn’t think. No time for that. Mind separate from heart, heart separate from body, body reacting.

Using all his strength, he lifts up the car- Flash screams- and throws it at the gas station on the other side of the road.

Peter swings away just as it explodes.

 

***

Excerpt from, “MY NAME IS MAY PARKER” by May Parker, page 500:

“... some people blame Tony Stark. Some people blame me. Some people blame society. I blame all of us. We all failed Peter Parker. I know how people feel. They blame him. They say he was the one who killed them all. But it was us. We all should have seen what life was doing to him.   
Peter was the sweetest person I knew- he helped others, cried when he saw me cry, always tried to do the right thing. He never once complained.  
I wish he did.  
Life broke him. He held the weight of the world on his shoulders, at only fifteen.   
No one deserves that. No one deserves to have to fight crime and still be slandered when you save the day. No one deserves to be mocked and ridiculed even when you aren’t, shoved and tripped and laughed at. No one deserves to have their parents die, and especially not to see their uncle die in their very arms.   
Peter always blamed himself for all of this. Yet it wasn’t his fault. We all failed him. He deserved a better world than we gave him.   
I won’t lie and say I don’t harbor resentment for the kids who harassed him. I’ve seen the video of Homecoming, that went viral. I honestly am shocked he was able to do this for so long, be Spider-Man and Peter Parker all at once, while receiving hate for both of his personas. He did his best, tried to help people, be good. Despite everything, I know Peter was a good person. He wanted to help everyone so much, and what did he get? Blood. Believe me, he’d already seen enough. It was no wonder.  
My only hope is that Homecoming was magical for him, before everything that happened. I hope he got to have fun with the girl he liked, laugh with his friends, dance. I hope for once in his goddamn life, my nephew got to do the thing he never got to do.  
I hope he got to be fifteen.”

***

 

Tony is in the lab, yet he’s not doing anything.

He’s thinking.

It’s hard not to, when only a day ago you had to punish a super-baby by taking their suit away.

God, why couldn’t have Peter just listened to him? There was no need for him to go after the bad guys, no need to risk his own life.

As much as Tony is pissed, he’s also sort of disappointed. Not only in Peter, but in himself.

Maybe he could have handled the situation better.

Tony groans at that thought and rests his head in his hands. He could go for a drink, and yet he doesn’t want to go through the same cycle over and over again.

Just as he’s about to get up- fuck it- Happy rushes into the room.

“Tony. You need to see this.”

Happy is clearly out of breath, sweating, and holding out his phone to Tony.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t today moving day?”

Happy doesn’t comment on that. “Look. Now.”

“What is it?” Tony takes the phone and stares at the screen. It’s a livestream, not playing yet.

“Press play,” Happy urges, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Fine, fine.”

It seems normal at first- a school dance. Tony’s about to ask Happy if he seriously made him drop everything- not that he was doing anything- just to watch some prom video or whatever, until he hears the name called out.

“So, Midtown’s Homecoming king and queen are, by a landslide… Peter Parker and Liz Allan!”

Tony looks up at Happy. “The… the kid? Why are you showing me this?”

Happy just shakes his head, mumbling something, and only then does Tony see how pale he is, the worried and disturbed look on his face.

Tony immediately looks back to the video.

Peter and some girl- Liz, probably- are onstage, being crowned. The kid looks overjoyed, almost as if he’s about to cry.

Then, suddenly, he looks up.

A minute later, he’s met with a face full of what Tony sincerely hopes isn’t blood.

“What the fuck?” Tony growls, as laughter starts. Whoever the cameraman is is giggling and running outside of whatever building they’re in, and then starts filming from a window.

Peter stands there, looking devastated, shocked, and Tony is about to say he can’t stand anymore of this messed up shit when he sees Peter shove someone with all of his strength.

It only goes downwards from there.

Tony watches in- he doesn’t know how to describe it, horror, shock- as Peter proceeds to use his webs- must be from his old suit- to kill- Tony doesn’t want to think it- the rest of his classmates.

The cameraman runs off, cursing about how Peter is Spider-Man- Tony recognizes the voice, that Flash kid- and then the stream cuts off, as he gets into a car.

Tony feels sick. “When did this end?”

Happy’s voice is quiet. “About five minutes ago.The- The video’s been trending, and that fire- it’s spread. Queens is on fire, they couldn’t contain it.”

Tony immediately stands up. “FRIDAY, track down the kid for me.”

“He’s not wearing his suit, boss,” FRIDAY says, and Tony curses. Of course he’d take the suit away right before all this.

“Then just- just- track his phone! Do whatever you can!” Tony yells, suiting up.

“Sending Peter’s phone coordinates to your suit,” FRIDAY informs, and Tony nods, firing up his thrusters.

“Where are you going?” Happy sounds breathless.

“To find the kid.” Tony says.

 

***

Tony’s lucky Peter’s generation is so glued to their phones, because without them, he’d be screwed.

As Tony flies through the sky, his mind is only focused on one thing.

Finding Peter.

Honest to god, he feels like he wants to vomit. Peter had looked so happy, so over the moon in that damn video when his name had been called out, and then the blood- who the fuck would do that? Who would laugh at something like that, stream it, think it was hilarious?

And then, what had happened after… Tony doesn’t even want to think about it.

“How far am I from him?” Tony asks.

“You are about five minutes away, boss. I suggest you go on foot now, to get to him more quickly and precisely.” FRIDAY pipes up, and Tony does so, landing on the ground.

He’s in one of those wooded ‘KEEP OUT’ type areas. Trees surround him, but Tony doesn’t waste any time. He walks, as fast as he can.

“Peter?” Tony calls out. “Kid? Where are you?”

Suddenly, through the trees, Tony sees him.

It’s even worse in person.

The kid is covered from head to toe in blood, which gives off a horrible metallic smell that makes Tony want to vomit. His suit doesn’t hold a trace of the whiteness it did in the video, now a deep, dark crimson.

There’s a silence.

“Kid?” Tony breaks it, “Kid. It’s me. Tony.”

It’s so quiet all Tony can hear are the chirps of crickets and cicadas. The sky is dark, starless, and-

“They tricked me.”

Peter’s voice is quiet. Yet it holds an unmistakable shake, a broken, mournful tone to it.

“I know,” Tony says gently, “I saw.”

Peter doesn’t question how. “Everyone saw. Everyone, they were all-” Peter chokes up, and then turns around to face Tony.

His heart breaks.

This isn’t the kid Tony knows, the one who stammers and blushes and gets excited over dorky things like Star Wars. This is someone broken, beaten down, a husk, face covered in blood.

“They were all laughing at me.” Peter’s voice breaks, and he sobs.

“It’s okay, Pete. It’s okay.” Tony doesn’t know what to do. Is this the part where he’s supposed to, what- kill Peter? Arrest him? 

Tony doesn’t know. Tony doesn’t want to know. He just wants to erase this all for Peter, take away this brokenness.

“It’s not okay.” Peter shakes his head, tears spilling out of his eyes. “They’re dead. They’re all dead. Ned, M.J, Liz, everyone. I killed them. I killed them all.”

“I- Peter-” Tony can’t finish his sentence, because what is there to say? What is there to say to the kid who’s seen it all, who finally, after every shitty thing he’s been through, has broken?

“I tried so hard, Mr. Stark. I’ve always tried so hard to be good. I never wanted a reward or anything- just helping people was enough.” Peter says, and then laughs. It’s bitter.

Tony doesn’t like Peter bitter.

“I was too selfish tonight, though, I guess? I thought I was actually fitting in, I got to dance with the girl I liked, and I wasn’t Penis Parker-”

“You were never Penis Parker.” Tony speaks up. 

Peter just shakes his head. “And then all this. The blood, everyone laughing. I just couldn’t take it anymore, Mr. Stark. I broke. I snapped. I don’t even know how you can stand to look at me, knowing what I did.”

And they stare at each other. Peter is smiling, but it’s a broken one. His tears won’t stop, and Tony feels tears coming to his eyes too. They revel in the silence.

Gently, Peter raises his hand towards Tony, as if he’s looking in a mirror.

Tony does the same, reflecting this. It’s instinctual, without a thought. 

And yet it means so much.

Time doesn’t exist as they stare at each other, holding their palms towards each other, although feet away, not touching. It seems like forever.

And Tony can’t help but wonder if forever starts with just a gesture.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Irondad fic! I've honestly wanted to write a Carrie Au for the longest time, but could never find suitable enough characters for it- now I have. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this fic. It's probably the longest thing I've written, about 54 pages.


End file.
